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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26567284">I Got Nothin' if I Ain't Got an Angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/santa_fe_maniac/pseuds/santa_fe_maniac'>santa_fe_maniac</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel!Davey, Angst, Angst and Fluff, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugs, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Guardian Angel AU, Guardian Angels, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Substance Abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:27:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26567284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/santa_fe_maniac/pseuds/santa_fe_maniac</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a misunderstanding, Jack gets shot. A creature with wings saves him.</p><p>The next week, something falls from the sky.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David Jacobs/Jack Kelly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Got Nothin' if I Ain't Got an Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey! i've been working on this for a while and i'm VERY proud of it! big thanks to my friend finch who read through it and gave me detailed feedback. follow him on tumblr @kings-of-newyork! he's a very talented writer and artist and posts newsies content :)</p><p>BIG TRIGGER WARNING FOR DRUG USE AND DRUG ADDICTION</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jack collapsed to the grubby pavement, the air knocked out of him. A moment passed, and a fire spread through his side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This ain’t happenin’, this ain’t happenin’</span>
  </em>
  <span> he repeated in his mind as he craned his neck to look at the new wound, grimacing at the blood flowing around his hand. He sobbed, heart racing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” he croaked, though there was no one in the dark alleyway to listen. “Please.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small ‘swish’ sounded, and he pushed himself onto his stomach, breathing unevenly around clenched teeth. Looming over him was an unfamiliar man with an oval, angular face, and a roman nose, neatly combed hair pushed back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pure white wings sprouted from his shoulder blades, emitting a glow that made Jack squint against the light. They swayed forward, a feather straying off into the darkness, landing near a discarded Starbucks cup. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It ain’t Halloween,” he wanted to say, but only got out, “Am I dyin’?” He reached out to the figure with his free hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” he repeated, hand landing on the man’s shoulder, squeezing it with all of the strength he could muster. The sides of his vision became foggy and black spots danced. “Please, I don’t wanna die.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man placed his hands on Jack’s cheeks, brushing his thumb over his stubbled jaw. “You’re going to be okay, Jack.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He woke up with a start, gripping the bed sheets. Racetrack turned over on the bed beside him, but remained asleep, and Jack exhaled sharply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last thing he remembered was a loud gunshot. He closed his eyes, a tremor shooting up his spine as he saw the man clearly—a face, wrinkled and pale from years of addiction, a shaking finger pressing the trigger—and he forced his eyes open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He vaguely remembered another man, this one much nicer than the other. He can distantly picture an oval face of sharp angles, but he can clearly see the wings, though Jack was sure that was a hallucination. That, or he was having flashbacks to the statues from the Catcholic church of his childhood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached for his wound, but only felt the thin, dry fabric of his shirt. He tumbled out of bed and rushed to the bathroom, flicking on the light and standing on his tip-toes, steeling himself for the nauseating sight of a dark red splotch, ever growing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing. Just plain white cloth. He sighed heavily, leaning over to bang his head against the counter. He must’ve died, though his dirty, dilapidated apartment he currently shared with his tweaker best friend wasn’t his vision of heaven. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He returned to his bed, closing his eyes and curling under the thin sheets. He’d find some answers in the morning. For now, sleep was much more inviting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘ey, Kelly,” Race said, and Jack turned to the bedroom doorway, where he was leaning. “Today’s the day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack’s eyebrows raised. “Y’know, escapin’ ain’t gonna get the cops off your ass.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Worth a try, ain’t it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack pressed his lips together, because it was obvious Race didn't have any other options. “Yeah, guess so. I just gotta beg Romeo to lower rent so I can stay here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I got you,” Race said, walking over and clapping him on the shoulder, hard enough that Jack winced. “‘M gonna pitch in some money so you don’t end up on the streets. I’ll send it over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You ain’t gotta do that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do. You’s my friend, Jackie boy, you ain’t goin’ anywhere under my watch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, when’re you leavin’?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like, right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack blinked owlishly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Race said, face scrunching up, and Jack just shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay safe, okay? Keep in touch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will do.” Race rushed back into his bedroom to grab his packed suitcase, and did a final scan of the apartment. “Keep my things safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your seventeen Barbies are goin’ in the trash.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jack</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he says, drawing out the vowel, whining out a high-pitched note akin to that of a kettle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I dunno why you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>them. They’re goin’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Race huffed. He stopped at the door, smiling at Jack. “I’ll miss ya, buddy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll miss ya.” Race turned to leave, but Jack ran over, throwing his arms around him. Race buried his face in his neck, returning the hug for several moments before pulling away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened the door, and it shut behind him, and the gravity of the situation slowly sunk in, then dropped on him like a ton of bricks—he was alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He collapsed onto their—</span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>—stiff, ripped couch, staring at the popcorn ceiling. His whole life, he’d had someone. Maybe they weren’t friends or anything, but there was someone. Now, he was alone, save for a few “friends” on the street that helped him with deals. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had no clue how long he’d been lying there, consumed by his thoughts, but he sat up as a scream sounded, slowly drawing closer, a sudden ‘thump’ following. He rushed to the window and slid it open, poking his head out—in the bushes, a man lay sprawled across the hedges, naked—and Jack flushed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was familiar, but Jack couldn’t put his finger on it. It had been several weeks since he was miraculously saved, and thinking back to the event, Jack’s eyes widened. That was the man. He didn’t have wings this time, but his face was the same—sharp angles and a roman nose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran out the door, sprinting down the stairs and outside of the building. The man was sitting on the ground, frowning. He flexed his shoulder blades, and his frown deepened, like he expected something to happen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even lost and scratched up, he was quite stunning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Jack called as he ran over, and the man looked up at him. “You good?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- no, not really,” the man said, looking down at his palms, which were flecked with dirt and smeared with blood oozing from various cuts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was some nasty fall,” Jack commented, taking stock of his injuries—nothing seemed to be broken, but scrapes covered his body and he was sure to have some nasty bruises. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man looked Jack up and down, and his expression brightened. “You’re Jack Kelly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“And you’re the dude who saved me. Y’know, when I got shot.” He gave the man a once-over, swallowing thickly. What was he supposed to say to the man that saved his life? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man—an angel?— smiled lopsidedly. Jack shook his head, grabbing his hands and helping him to his feet. “C’mon, I got some clothes you can borrow.” Angel followed him into the building, placing his hands over his crotch as an attempt to hide himself. “So, why ain’t you got wings anymore, angel?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Angel didn’t respond and Jack didn’t push for a response. He led him up the stairs and to his apartment, where he dug his oversized clothes out and threw them at Angel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Angel tugged them on. The hoodie was just a little large, the sleeves hanging over his hands, but the sweatpants were a win. Jack took the opportunity to do an innocent once-over, letting out a sharp breath. Everything about Angel was stupidly perfect. “Well, Jack, have you heard of guardian angels?” he asked as he sat on the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack scoffed as he collapsed onto the opposite side. “Buncha bullshit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Angel chuckled. “That’s what you’d think. I was assigned to you when you were just a baby. I’ve been trying my hardest to protect you, but all of my attempts fell through.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack frowned when Angel’s expression fell, and he cautiously shifted closer. “Sorry for bein’ such a problem case.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Angel laughed. “One of the first things you learn is that you can’t save everyone. Anyways, when you got shot, I couldn’t help myself. I thought I’d be able to save you and go back up, unnoticed. But He noticed, and I lost my job. We’re forbidden from saving people, healing wounds, et cetera.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why’d you do it?” Jack asked. “Save me, I mean.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were my first case. I wanted to prove that I was a good angel,” Angel confessed. He shook his head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m David.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, I’m Jack.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack hadn’t thought twice about letting the fallen angel live with him. Race had moved out and he was alone, so why not?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t expected there to be downsides.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>David—Jack had taken a liking to calling him Davey—was more than a little lost. He’d been silent past their initial conversation. Jack turned on the TV for him and returned to his painting, soft sobs interrupting him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He comforted him the best he could, but Davey was inconsolable—Jack didn’t blame him, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>just lost his family and friends and his job. He cried himself out before crashing on the couch, allowing Jack to return to his painting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hours later, he woke up and promptly panicked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Am I dying? Oh my God, I’m dying. My stomach growled,” Davey exclaimed , and Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are you laughing? You think this is funny?” he snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t dying,” Jack told him. “You said your stomach growled?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re hungry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Davey’s eyebrows furrowed, and Jack shook his head, grabbing a bag of goldfish out of the cupboard and tossing them to Davey. “Eat some’a those, you’ll feel better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Davey had a similar reaction when he began to feel tired as Jack was getting ready for bed and guiding Davey through the steps of brushing his teeth. It was charming, somehow, seeing Davey so incredibly lost and panicked, but it was also incredibly sad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Jack,” Davey murmured for the tenth time from Race’s old bed. Jack groaned and rolled over to face him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, ‘s the middle of the night. Shut up and go to sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you ever miss your family?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack’s heart sunk and his expression softened. He pushed himself into a sitting position like Davey. “I don’t miss my dad, ‘cause he was an asshole, but I miss the </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea </span>
  </em>
  <span>of havin’ a family. You got a family up there?” He waves a thumb to the ceiling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did,” Davey said, and Jack exhaled sharply as his voice cracked. “They all hate me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack’s bed creaked as he rose to his feet, moving over to sit beside him. Davey wrapped his arms around his torso, looking down at the stained carpet. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and Davey shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I tried to make them proud,” he choked out, swallowing hard. “But it was all about </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sarah.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He bit out the name. “How would I ever live up to my perfect twin? She was everything they wanted, and I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Jack whispered. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, unsure of what else to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll never see them again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you got me, yeah?” Jack wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You saved me, the least I can do is keep ya around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Davey laughed wetly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “Thanks. I know it’s strange to invite your guardian angel into your house. Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>former </span>
  </em>
  <span>guardian angel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My whole life is strange, ‘s just runnin’ with the theme.” Jack stood and returned to his bed. “Now sleep, you got a long day of learnin’ tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Davey spent so much time observing humans, he had no idea how hard it was to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>be </span>
  </em>
  <span>a human. Jack was going about his day—grocery shopping and attempting to shoot up heroin in his apartment— and Davey followed him around like a lost puppy, claiming he was dying with every emotion and getting spooked by everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really shouldn’t be doing this,” Davey said as Jack, hands shaking violently, fiddled with a needle. “This is how you almost died.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I gotta,” Jack said, his skin burning. He brought the needle up to his arm, a lump forming in his throat. Davey had a point, but Jack couldn’t deal with the fire spreading through him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He forced the needle into his vein, breath hitching. Davey dropped his head, lips pressed together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While the high usually solved all of his problems, now it just felt wrong as Davey looked utterly destroyed, unable to look away from the supplies he had laid out on the coffee table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the high wore off hours later, Davey’s words sunk in. This life had almost killed him, and even if another deal doesn’t kill him, the heroin would probably do a fine job of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Davey,” Jack said, sitting on the couch next to him the day after. He gripped the fabric of his ripped jeans to hide the shaking. “Would you help me go sober?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Davey blinked owlishly. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was thinkin’ ‘bout what you said, and I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, that’s great!” he said slowly, a grin splitting his face. “So, I just need to make sure you don’t get any more drugs?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seems easy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack didn’t trust himself being alone, especially once his hands started shaking and his skin lit up in flames. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Davey asked the next morning. Jack was curled up in bed, biting on his tongue to stifle his screams. He ached, a burning, sharp pain that wouldn’t stop. He had discarded his shirt long ago, having sweat through it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Davey,” he croaked, reaching out to him, gripping his white shirt. “Davey, please, I need some.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Davey’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you dying?” His eyes widen. “Oh my God, you’re dying. Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, okay,” he said, breathing picking up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Davey,” he choked out, unable to stay still, writhing in pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have my powers, Jack!” Davey exclaimed. “I can’t save you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Davey, please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, kneeling beside his bed and running a hand through his damp hair. “I’m here, it’s going to be okay.” Jack smiled softly despite the pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m not dyin’,” he said, voice raspy. “I’ll be okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For sure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For sure,” he replied, and Davey smiled slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Alright, okay, that’s good,” he said, face relieved, and his smile grew. Jack couldn’t help but smile back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Additionally, two weeks later when the pain wore off, Jack noticed Davey started to forget the concept of clothes—or, well, wearing them in the morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He often stumbled out of the room shirtless, rubbing his eyes, and he was so damn stunning that Jack had to force himself to keep his eyes on the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, maybe that wasn’t a negative thing. Living with a beautiful angel was pretty nice, though his face often burned when he was caught staring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Davey had recently gotten a job at the grocery store just a few minutes from his apartment, leaving Jack alone for a majority of the day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spent the day in his pajamas, painting and watching dumb Hallmark movies on his shitty broken-down TV. It was lonely without Davey pressed against his side. The cuddling was a new development, one that Jack was not mad about.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door slamming startled him, and he frowned, pushing himself up. Davey ran into the living room and collapsed onto the couch next to him. “I’m dying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack smiled lopsidedly and snorted. “Sure you are, Dave. You thought you were dyin’ yesterday, and the day before th-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Jack,” he said, voice raspy and quiet, twisting and grabbing both of Jack’s shoulders tightly. “I think I’m actually dying this time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Jack’s eyes drifted off his body, which seemed injury free. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, I was at the cash register, right?” Jack nodded slowly. “My throat started hurting—it kinda felt like something was stabbing my throat every time I swallowed. And then I started coughing, and then my head started hurting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh, you’re sick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What Davey had described was a cold, but Jack’s heart sunk all the same. He really shouldn’t be this concerned about him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” David’s eyebrows raised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re sick,” Jack repeated, clapping him on the shoulder. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry ‘bout. Just chug some medicine and you’ll be right as rain in a couple days. ‘S probably just a cold, you’ll feel better soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack was incorrect, as Davey only deteriorated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He became Davey’s maid, of sorts. He fetched water and medicine in between comforting Davey, telling him that </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wasn’t dying. He’d been watching Jack his whole life, did he really not know how durable humans can be? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ja-</span>
  <em>
    <span>ack</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Davey moaned, and Jack groaned as he rose from the couch and walked into the bedroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jackie,” he said as he entered the room, Jack flushing. The nickname—he had plenty of nicknames, but Jackie is not one he had heard before—rolled so effortlessly off of Davey’s tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” he asked, only slightly irritated about having to take care of Davey. He wouldn’t rather be doing anything else, though. It was strange to care about someone as much as he did Davey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mere,” Davey says, gesturing for him to come over, and Jack walked to the side of the bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Davey reached out to grab the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, and his yelp was cut off by Davey’s lips being pressed up against his.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack tensed as his hands flew to Davey’s shoulders. Holy </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Davey was kissing him, and it was all he’d dreamed of and more, and he leaned into it, chasing his lips as he broke it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, you’re welcome,” he said, voice slightly husk, his smile crooked “You really gotta kiss me, though?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that what people do? You know, when they’re thankful?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack cursed softly. Of course, when he thought that Davey might return some feelings, he was just mistaken on a human thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes, but only with people they like, in a more-than-friend type of way,” Jack explained, the words slow with sudden exhaustion. Did you not pay </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>attention when you were watching me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s what kissing is up there,” Davey said, pointing a thumb toward the sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack let out a rough sigh and Davey frowned. “I’m sorry, Jack.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, you’re okay,” he said, though this was so far from okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him, and he didn’t hear from Davey for the rest of the day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was best they didn’t do anything, and Jack knew that. They were in two different places—he was a recovering drug addict, Davey an angel who’d just lost his world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They weren’t meant to be, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> be together, but Jack can’t get the feel of Davey’s lips against his out of his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What we watchin’, Daves?” Jack kicked his feet up on the coffee table, melting into the couch, limbs heavy from standing at a cash register all day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A documentary about wolves.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack rolled his eyes. “Again? We watched somethin’ ‘bout wolves last time you got to pick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s my turn to choose, and I choose the documentary about wolves, so shut up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack’s eyebrows raised. “Okay, boss,” he replied, having no choice but to fall silent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While wolves were interesting, he was much more focused on the way Davey’s body was pressed against his, how the backs of their hands were touching, how he could feel his cheek on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Jack?” Davey asked, and Jack looked down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“What does love feel like?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course. Jack looked out the window to hide his red face and he swallowed thickly. “It’s complicated, Dave. Dunno how I’d describe it,” he managed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please?” Davey asked, and Jack chewed on his bottom lip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y’know that feeling when you’re really excited about somethin’ but it also freaks you out? That’s kinda what it feels like. You wanna be around someone but they also make you nervous ‘cause you love them a lot and you want them to love you back.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack wasn’t the best at describing things, but he knew how to describe love—he’d felt it the past few months. Every moment around Davey was the best, but also the most nerve wracking. The nerves were worth it, though, as he savoured every moment with Davey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jack?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m in love.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack blinked owlishly, his heart sinking. “Oh, nice. Who?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Jack choked on his spit, coughing into his arm. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You,” Davey repeated. “I love you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flushed a deep red. He hadn’t expected that. Davey had been gaining a few friends recently, so Jack figured it was one of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shit, Dave, I love you too.” It felt so good to finally be able to say it instead of leaving small hints in hopes that Davey, a clueless former angel, would catch on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he could stop himself, Jack dove in, pressing his lips up against Davey’s, placing a hand on his jaw. Davey was frozen for a moment before he melted into the kiss. Jack felt faint.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Davey eventually pulled away, a grin splitting his face, and he pressed his forehead against Jack’s. “I love you, Jack.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love you too, my angel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And while Davey wasn’t an angel anymore, Jack almost laughed about how the pet name was somewhat a reality. </span>
</p><p> </p>
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